Black had escaped this particular grim duty, dealing instead with the child's parents. While such a discussion was not one Hamish ever wished to had, the Deputy wondered if the Headmaster hadn't gotten the better end of the bargain. Two grieving parents over a hundred confused children—the maths on that one didn't seem too bad.

Clearing his throat quietly, uncomfortably, the professor rose to his feet, the pre-dinner chatter dwindling to a small buzz as he did so. Had they been talking, just an instant before, about this very topic? Or had the faculty's efforts to keep it under wraps pay off? He doubted it was the latter—the Prophet had somehow gotten a hold of the story; even if the grapevine was not working at full capacity, surely at least one of the castle's pupils subscribed to the newspaper.

"As you may have heard," Hamish began, his deep voice echoing in the crevices of the Great Hall's walls, it's ceiling, "we as a school had the misfortune to lose one of our own last evening."

He halted a beat too long as he tried to piece together the right words. Students had, of course, died at Hogwarts over his decades of employment, but it never became any easier. In fact, with his advancing years, Hamish quite thought it had grown harder each time.

"Miss Celeste Benet—" his Scottish accent ignored entirely the French inflections "—of Gryffindor died swiftly in a small potions explosion, and two of her classmates remain in the hospital wing. I think I speak for us all when I say that our thoughts are with her family, and in particular with Miss Claire Benet, her twin sister."

"To call this a tragedy, I think, would not be an exaggeration. It is always tragic when one is lost so young, when one loses a friend, a pupil. What would be even more tragic, however would be to fail to learn from these events. We must never forget that magic is a being as much as it is a tool, and that we as individuals have our limitations. To challenge oneself is admirable, but to overreach, as we have borne witness, can be deadly. As you enter the summer months—and for our graduates, the world of adulthood—please, think on Miss Benet and the consequences of fool-heartiness—and of pride."

A small, sad smile graced the Deputy Headmaster's lips before he concluded, "Please, enjoy your supper."

Hamish returned heavily to his seat, his own appetite having gone on holiday two days early. Tomorrow's Coming Out Ball and Friday's End of Year Feast would, as always, continue as planned, but after the toll this had taken, the wizard was no longer certain he had either in him.

Perhaps it was finally time to retire.